


Suits, Ties and Tension

by Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me



Series: Destiel/ Cockles Shorts [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Co-workers, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, M/M, matching outfits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3731011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me/pseuds/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If it was just once, he wouldn't think anything of it. Twice - chalk it up to a coincidence, maybe. But three times? Three times matching outfits with your coworker, well ... that's going to raise some eyebrows, and Dean fucking hates raising eyebrows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suits, Ties and Tension

                “Did you and Novak plan this?” James asks while gesturing up and down Dean’s chest.

                “ _What_?” Dean looks at the man and then down at himself. _Did I spill something?_ There’s nothing there but the light blue shirt, black tie and silver blazer he’s been wearing all morning. “What are you talkin’ about?”

                “Novak …” James says again, flicking his head towards the other side of the room. “You two are practically _identical_ today."

                Dean draws his eyes to his coworker as the man sets up for his presentation, fumbling with projector cords and muttering to himself. Dean smiles slightly. _He’s like a kitten tangled in string._ His gaze then falls down the man’s neck and over his tensed, broad shoulders to his heaving chest, pulling tightly at the buttons of his light blue shirt. _It’s true_ , Castiel’s outfit _is_ pretty, damn close to his own—only, his blazer is more “charcoal” and his tie is a bit lighter. Overall, it’s nothing people would look twice at if he and Cas stood next to each other. He’s not sure why James is making such a big deal about it. “ _Huh_ , coincidence I guess.” 

                James shrugs and turns around towards the donuts sitting on the side table at the back of the conference room. Dean takes one last peek at Cas before following James. Soon, both men have coffee in one hand and a powdered donut in the other. They sit, eating and drinking patiently as Castiel Novak attempts to get himself together. The projector screen flickers on a moment and then immediately goes black again. The blue eyed man lets out a flustered groan as he starts switching more cables and wires. Dean tries to hold back a laugh, but doing so only makes it come out as a giddy squeak instead. He cowers slightly as Cas’s eyes snap to him—his tan face, scrunching up with silent curse words, all directed at Dean. Dean shifts his eyes back to his coffee, then the donut—already half gone. Another annoyed grumble spurts from the head of the table but Dean doesn’t look up. He only stuffs more of the sugary pastry into his mouth , wondering if Cas’s tug-of-war will continue long enough for him to get seconds.

***

                This time, _he’s_ the one who sees it. “Again? _Really_?” Dean watches as Castiel walks across the hall, in _all black_ — _just like him_. Black pants, black jacket, black shirt, black tie—head to toe _black._ _We look like lost members of a funeral procession._ Dean ducks back into his office, quickly sitting in his chair and deciding to wait to make his copies—considering he’s pretty sure that’s where Cas just headed. It will be less obvious if they’re not in the same room together. People really _will_ start to think they’re trying to match, since this is now the _second_ day it’s happened and _this_ outfit it much more noticeable then the last.

                He’s not even sure why he chose to pull a “Johnny Cash” look today, but his hair happened to style in a way that looked pretty cool and his new watch seemed too slick for his typical office-wear, so it worked. _Why the hell would Cas go for that look, though?_ The guy usually likes his lighter colors. Blues are almost _always_ mixed in somewhere and Dean imagines it has to be because of the man’s eyes. Someone at some point probably told the guy that if he wears certain shades, his eyes pop. Now, it’s a rare time when Dean _isn’t_ caught by the shockwave that comes when Cas looks at him. He shakes his head and turns back to his computer, deciding that he’s wasted enough time thinking about his and his coworker’s outfits. He has a job to do after all.

                “Hey, Dean?”

                Dean looks up, only to be blown back by the electric rings that are humming through the air. Castiel is poking his head in through Dean’s open door—wide eyed, brows raised, seeming almost scared to step inside. “Oh, _uh_ … yeah?”

                Cas finally moves fully into the doorway, and Dean wonders how all that black could possibly make the man’s eyes stand out _more._ “Do you have those logs I asked you about the other day? I need to get them into the system before I leave.”

                Dean stares a moment longer, finally snapping back to the task at hand. “Oh … _yeah_.” He grabs the files at the corner of his desk and stands up to walk around and hand them to the man at his door. “They’re right here, sorry about that. I was just going to make copies and run them over to your office but …” he stops himself, remembering the reason he avoided the copy room. “I _uh_ , I had to—”

                “Hey, Winchester!”

                Dean’s eyes dart over Cas’s shoulder to James as he crowds in behind him. Cas quickly moves to the side to let the man through.

                “I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch at—” James stops mid-sentence and looks over Dean, then along to Cas.”Wow, you guys. _Really_?”

                “Coincidence” Dean grumbles, shoving the files into Castiel’s hands before turning back to sit at his desk.

                “Yeah, sure … _whatever_ , dude. Anyway, did you want to get lunch at the new pub across the street? We could probably catch the end of the game there.”

                Dean turns his attention to his computer screen, lifting his hand to wave off his friend. “ _Yeah_ , man. Sounds good _, but get outta here_. I won’t be going anywhere if I don’t finish these trouble-tickets.” He peeks back in time to see James smile and spin on his heels to walk out the door, leaving Cas with a hearty pat on the back just before turning out of sight.

              Castiel shifts clumsily in his shoes while meeting Dean’s eyes again. “Thanks for these. I’ll make copies and get them back to you.”

               Dean nods and smiles weakly, watching as the man reverses out of his office to head back down the hall. Once he’s out of sight, Dean hunches forward, letting out a flustered breath. _Well, that was awkward._

***

                Casual Friday—it’s usually his favorite day, because he can wear one of his prized concert t-shirts under his suit jacket, and he almost _always_ gets a compliment because of it. Today however, he doesn’t receive anything but comments on how he and Novak are “twinsies”—a term that Vivian down in reception decided to make _trend_ throughout the office. He’s seriously considering going home at lunch and changing into just a regular button-up. _That might make things worse, though._

Dean heads to the break room around eleven o’clock, figuring no one would be in there at that time and he might get to refill his coffee in peace. He rounds the corner to see James and Cas, chatting next to the coffee pot.

                James turns to look at him, a grin cracking wide and long across his cheeks. “ _Oh man_ , I heard you two were matching again today, but _shit_ —this is priceless!”

                Dean looks down at his own black and white AC/DC shirt, and then up to Castiel’s. It’s even hiding under a similar black blazer; and his dark wash jeans are almost identical to the ones riding on Dean’s wide hips. He slips his eyes to James as the man continues to chuckle to himself. “It’s a popular band, man. _Shut it!_ _You_ probably have one of these shirts too!”

                James finally calms, stepping aside to let Dean get to the coffee pot. “ _Nah_ , I was never into hair metal, myself. “ He grins again as Dean grimaces at him. “What about you, Cas? You must like that kind of music if you have merch for it.”

                Dean turns, glaring at Castiel as the man’s mouth gapes. He finally peeks back to Dean before shaking his head. “Uh, _no_ —not really, actually.”

                “Then why are you wearing it?” James asks, a chipper tone hugging his voice.

                Castiel jumps his eyes nervously between the men in front of him, making strangled noises before finally backing himself towards the door. “I should probably get back to work” he yelps, whipping around and quickly disappearing from sight.

                James turns back to Dean, a puzzled expression wrecking his face. “What was that about?”

                Dean sighs while reaching out towards the coffee pot. “No idea, man.”

***

                “How was I supposed to know?”

                “I don’t expect you to _know_ , but it’s not even _yours_. If you asked to borrow it then I would have known you had it and I could have picked something else!”

                Castiel huffs, peeling off the t-shirt and tossing back at Dean. “It’s a common logo, I didn’t think anyone would notice—not even you.”

                Dean smiles slyly. “Cas, I know you’re not a fan of AC/DC, so—I would have _definitely_ noticed, and I would assume quickly thereafter that it was _my_ shirt.”

                The man’s blue eyes roll just before casting down to the belt keeping his jeans tight on his waist. He starts to pull at the buckle, making Dean’s breath hitch in his throat. “Why do you even have two of the same shirt anyway? Did you forget you already had one and bought another?” Cas asks, not looking up as he slides the belt from its loops.

                Dean takes a moment to answer, lost in the way the man’s pants suddenly drop, exposing two, sharp, hypnotizing hips. Cas bends down to catch his gaze. Dean finally snaps out of it. “Oh, uh— _no_ , Sammy bought me the second one for my birthday or something. I don’t think he knew I already had the same shirt.”

                Cas nods, looking at the floor before a smile creeps across his face. “Are we really at the point in our relationship that we will have to start coordinating outfits?”

                Dean laughs, walking up to the man, snaking his hands around him to pull him in close for a kiss. “ _Apparently_. If we want to keep this thing hush-hush, we do.”

                “Why are inter-office relationships against the rules anyway? They must know that nobody pays that regulation any mind.”

                Dean shrugs, bending down a little to lick and bite at Castiel’s neck, breathing in deep—getting drunk on the scent of his favorite, clumsy coworker. A stifled moan fills his ear just as he slides his tongue over Cas’s throat. It’s the only cue he needs to let his fingers come back front and work at the button of the man’s jeans. He feels Castiel do the same, and soon—both men are standing in their own, rumpled piles of denim. Dean finally pushes back, biting his lip as he slowly looks down Castiel’s lean, tan body. His eyes halt as they reach the boxer briefs, tight and straining to hold the excited man in.

                “ _Really_ , dude?” Dean spits, twisting back up to those questioning blues.

                “ _What_?”

                Dean shuffles back, hunching his neck forward and cocking his head to the side. He throws out his arms so the man can get a full- view of his body—finally raising his eyebrows, waiting for Cas to see it.

                Castiel squints his eyes before letting them fall to the bright red boxer briefs that are hugging Dean’s hips—bright red boxer briefs that are _exactly_ the same as his own, down to every last white stitch and blue button. He throws his head back in a laugh, and Dean can’t help but join him.

                “Dude, this is _too much_ ” Dean finally hums, putting his hands back down and shaking his head.

                Castiel quiets while closing the small gap between them. He glides his tongue along Dean’s lips, working them open until the man lets him inside. They kiss a moment, letting their hands saunter over the other’s body and soak up all the tension from the day. Castiel chuckles into Dean’s mouth, finally pulling away after one last nip of his lip. “You’re right— _it is too much_ … too much _clothing_ , so let’s get these off.”

                Dean gasps as Cas’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of his briefs, sliding them down so for the first time in three days—the two men _aren’t_ matching. He grins, letting his own hands follow suit while he stares into those electric blue eyes. Dean begins to pull down the last thing keeping Cas decent, shivering as the naked heat from his body mixes with his own. Soon, both are bare, only covered by the touch of the other’s skin.

                Dean grins to himself. _This is the kind of matching I like._

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt I received on Tumblr. Find me there at castiel-left-his-mark-on-me.
> 
> Also, look around the rest of my Ao3 for more angst, fluff and smut! Thanks for reading!


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